


Small Things Unsaid

by FireEye



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Two gangstersfail to discuss feelingsin space.





	Small Things Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookykingdomstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/gifts).



A heavy blanket fell over her shoulders, draping all the way to the floor.  Bathed in scrolling blue holographic light, she stirred; her fingers crept up and curled over the edge of the blanket, taking in the tactile sensation, and her eyes cracked open.

She bolted upright, almost sliding out of the alien chair.  There was a moment of wild-eyed disorientation as she glanced about the cockpit.  She stilled when she found Gat staring at her from the next chair over; his expression was opaque, but an open bottle of beer was hovering halfway to a sip.

Belatedly, her attention turned to the blanket still clenched in her hand.  With a slow breath out, she relaxed back into the chair, such as humanly possible, and hiked it back up under her chin to huddle under.

“What time is it?”

Gat gave a shrug over the swig off his drink, and his stare turned to the Zin mothership architecture on the other side of the glass; more, perhaps, because it was _there_ than because he _liked_ looking at it.

“Not sure what it matters in space.”

Her gaze fell along the console in front of her, then the paneling under her feet.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Fuck should I know?” Gat asked.  “Didn’t even know where you were; thought you would’a been down below someplace.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t...” Wasn’t _what_? “...I don’t know, wasn’t feeling comfortable down there I guess.”  She rubbed at her eyes as she explained, “Didn’t mean to fall asleep up here.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, it felt like she was making excuses.  She didn’t even know why she was struggling to explain herself.  Johnny wasn’t so much as looking at her, but he was sure as fuck paying attention.

He took a sip off the bottle.

She swallowed.

Then held out her hand.

Johnny glanced her way, and handed her the bottle.  His fingers were warm; so was the glass where they’d been.

She didn’t give it back right away, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Gonna need to make a supply run soon.”

“We almost out of beer?”

“No, but everything else is gettin’ low.” Gat glanced at her to accept the bottle back as she held it back out to him.  A grin crept across the corner of his mouth as he raised the bottle for a sip.  “Should be a fun time.”

A thin smile mirrored his, and faded again.  Staring at the bottle in his outstretched hand, she hesitated before taking it.  She licked her lips before taking a sip.

“Anyone else we gonna need to bust free?”

“I think everyone else is dead.”

“Yeah?  And you thought I was dead, too.”

“Loren had...” Long suppressed emotion threatened to flood over, and she hissed in a breath.  “...said he had your body.”

“Surprised you’d believe a word come out of Loren’s mouth.”

Johnny paused, staring at her as he reached for the bottle she offered him back.  It took her a moment to realize why; her hand was shaking.  She tucked it under the blanket when he’d taken the bottle, avoiding his gaze, and he slowly drew his arm back.

“I didn’t know what else would keep you from coming back home.”

The weight of his stare drifted away from her.  His knee jittered faintly as he regarded the bottle in his lap, then the window beyond the scroll of information that rolled along the alien screen in front of him.

She watched him take a pull off the bottle in profile.  His eyelashes fluttered in a blink behind his sunglasses, and he held the beer in his mouth for a thoughtful moment.  The ripple of his throat as he swallowed made the tattoos along his neck almost seem to dance.

“What can you tell me about Zinyak?”

Gat’s expression grew dark.

“Nothin’ you don’t already know.”

“You sure?  I...”  Her eyes flicked to the bottle.  Then back to him as she took it.  “I thought maybe... I don’t know.”  She tipped her head back for a swallow, and handed it back to him.  “He seemed to like dropping in and fucking with me a lot, like... it was personal or something.” Dragging her legs up onto the chair, she entrenched herself under the blanket.  Her voice grew small, like she’d overstepped and owed him an explanation.  “Thought if he’d done the same with you, he might’ve let something slip, at some point... all this time.”

As he listened, Johnny’s grip tightened around the neck of the beer bottle.

“All I can tell you about Zinyak is how much I’m lookin’ forward to ripping him open slowly and making him beg for the merciful death he ain’t gettin’.”

Raising the bottle, he added, “Not all for what he did to me, either.”

The bottle turned up empty, and Gat gave it a pensive look and a thoughtful _hrrm_.  He glanced around the cockpit, and, not finding a trash bin or a remotely adequate alternative, fell to holding it.

After a moment, he simply got up.  Her eyebrows knit together as she watched him.

On his way past, he ruffled his fingers through her hair, and she grabbed for his hand.  Tangling his fingers with hers, she pressed the heel of his hand to her mouth, and a tiny gasp whispered down his wrist.  His thumb brushed along her cheek, and he applied just enough pressure to tilt her face towards him.

Johnny smirked down at her.

He disentangled his fingers and pulled away, swapping the bottle between hands as he made his way towards the door.

She held out her arm after him.

“Hey, if you’re going down to grab another beer, think you could bring one up this way?”

He grunted an acknowledgement.  Letting her arm drop, she peered around the edge of the chair.

“Missed having you around, you know.”

The door slid open and he paused to look back at her.

“Been gettin’ that impression.”

The door slid closed behind him, leaving her alone.

“More than you...”

She started to smooth her hair, and her fingers tangled.  Giving the door another glance, she pulled the blanket over her shoulders and tighter around her.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, the fine feel of feelings.


End file.
